Night Terrors

3

Esteban shook his head. He'd been staring at his reflection in the mirror for the last half hour trying to find the tiniest trace of the haughty teenager he'd been in the man he was now. Forty-two years. That is how much time had gone by since he'd assisted Shuriki in usurping the throne from his family.

They'd thought Shuriki dead after her fall from the palace bridge, but the sorceress had survived, and with his cousin Elena gone there was nobody left with the courage to stand against her.

Only he and Isabel remained. Esteban had sworn to protect his cousin no matter the cost, and he'd keep that vow, even if it meant sacrificing himself to the witch who'd ruined his life all those years ago.

His ebony and gold double breasted tailcoat and satin lined silk brocade waistcoat felt as if they weighed a ton. He removed both and it was as though a massive boulder had suddenly been lifted off his shoulders. He was trying to decide whether to remove his white linen shirt with its bishop sleeves when a guard knocked on his door. Esteban blew out an exasperated and tired breath before opening the door.

The guard turned out to be Gabriel Nuñez now dressed in the all black uniform that Queen Shuriki had declared mandatory for members of the royal guard to wear. He gave a stiff nod. "The queen requested your presence in her personal chambers. She says..."

He seemed hesitant to finish.

"Well...?" Esteban demanded. His nerves were shot and his patience paper thin as it was. "Out with it, niño! What did she say?"

"The queen says she looks forward to consummating her marriage and you'd do well to hurry. Her Majesty will be quite displeased if she's kept waiting."

Esteban frowned. "I see...tell Queen Shuriki that I'll attend to her as soon as I'm able."

Gabe gave him a quick salute then retreated down the hall. Esteban had always liked the Nuñez boy. He hoped Shuriki wouldn't take her impatience out him.

He closed his solar door and leaned back against it trying to pull himself together. He'd brought this on himself. He'd doubted his family's love and trusted the witch when she'd promised him they'd remain unharmed after she invaded Avalor. Worse, he'd foolishly thought they were rid of her after Elena's release from the amulet of Avalor.

Esteban mentally berated himself for never sending out guards to search for a body. He should've made sure of the witch's demise instead of assuming she'd perished.

Esteban rubbed his face. He had become a prisoner in his own home-again! He'd even been forced to wed the very witch who'd incinerated his uncle and aunt to steal their throne for herself.

Shuriki claimed to have real feelings for him, but Esteban knew better. The woman felt no genuine affection for him. She'd married him to cement her rule over Avalor, nothing more. Isa had been forced to sign away any claim she had to the throne while Cristóbal Castillo had been bribed into abdicating to ensure Esteban would be the only legitimate claimant left in the royal line of succession.

Shuriki intended to use him as a political pawn and sire for her heir should she need one. He wasn't sure she ever would.

He had no way of knowing just how long the sorceress was going to live. Her reign-Maru forbid-could go on for a hundred or maybe even a thousand years!

"Dios mio, what have I done?" he whispered.

There had to be a way to remedy this. To right the wrongs he'd committed. Even if it wouldn't bring back his family or relieve him of his guilt, he'd have died liberating his people from the tyrant he helped place on the throne.

Esteban paced the length of his solar trying to think of a way to rid hinself of the evil he'd unleashed. His gaze fell to the dagger on his belt.

The spiraling hilt, jeweled pommel and worn leather sheath were all lined with intricate rose gold filigree and ornate scrollwork.

He'd used it solely as a decorative piece at the wedding.

Abuelo Francisco had gifted it to him on his seventeenth birthday so that he'd have it when the time came for him to choose a bride. The Flores family heirloom wasn't made to be a real weapon. Its blade was sharp though. Enough to cut through paper and fabric with little to no effort on the part of the wielder. Esteban had been using it as a letter opener.

He drew the dagger to better examined it. The blade itself almost seemed to glow in the firelight as he shifted the hilt from one hand to the other.

Esteban eventually found a comfortable grip. He tested the knife's weight, twisting, stabbing, slashing, hacking, slicing, and twirling it until he was certain he wouldn't lose it if and when the time came to dispatch his target.

He tried to imagine how it would feel, to finally strike the fatal blow, to watch the blood gush out of Shuriki's throat onto the front of her gown staining the emerald silk crimson. He cringed at the thought of her blood on his hands-the warm, sticky feel of it.

The sudden taste of iron on Esteban's tongue made him pause. It took a moment for him to realize that he'd just bitten his lip so hard it was bleeding.

Esteban had no desire to kill Shuriki. He'd loved her once. Perhaps part of him still did. He wanted to believe part of the witch cared for him, that her so-called affection wasn't being feigned for the sake of appearances, but the voice in his head wouldn't allow him to live in denial.

After what she'd done, and given what she planned to do, there was no other way. The woman had to die, and he had to be the one to take her life.

He'd considered stabbing her right in the heart, but due to everything she'd already put him through, he wasn't even sure she had one. It had to be the throat. He wouldn't knife her in the back or belly. That would be dishonorable.

Esteban might have been a coward for wanting to live, but that didn't mean he had to murder like a craven. He didn't care that Shuriki had wronged him. She deserved a quick, clean death.

He'd do all he could to make it painless for her. He didn't want the sorceress to suffer. Shuriki was his lawful wife now after all-even if only in name.